A Psychological Art
by thatcoolguy17
Summary: Whenever it came down to it, Art and Psychology always in some ways intersects, whether it was by fate or not. Angela Montenegro and Lance Sweets find that out the hard way after they had too much to drink... that is if it wasn't by fate. Journey through their hardships as the History of Bones is forever altered in this story. Rated T, might change over the course of the story.


**Author's Note: This story takes place somewhere around Angela's celibate life. This is also going to be a Sweets-Angela pairing story, if you didn't notice. If you don't like the story, you're not in any way obligated in reading the story. Well, enjoy…**

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The Founding Father's Bar and Grill, it's usually one of the places where the Jeffersonian Team and a few FBI agents go to when they're done on with a case or when feeling a bit stressed out. Tonight though, was more along the lines of both.

"Can't believe Daisy dumped me…" Lance Sweets, the young psychologist, mopped as he got another shot of, what was it? Tequila most likely.

"Cheer up Sweets," Angela Montenegro tried to turn Sweet's frown upside down. "There are many fish in the sea."

"D-Did you get that from the back of a cereal box?" Although he may have a smile on his face, it was mostly likely due to the fact that he had too many shots.

"Oh haha," it was just the two of them, the rest of the team had already left back home. "Maybe we should stop drinking." She suggested, even though she had another shot of Tequila in her hand. "One of us has-hahaha- to drive."

"Don't worry, we can just… tell the bartender to get us a… a cabbie…" He had developed a case of hiccups.

"Another round then?" She suggested to the psychologist.

"Yeah!"

…

"Ow… my head…" Sweets finally awoke from his slumber, talking underneath his breath. His night with Angela was rather foggy at the moment and the only thing he tried doing now was checking his surroundings. His eyesight was still rather blurry, but he can make out where he was. "Ah crap, why am I at the Bureau…" He didn't think his late night drink with Angela would get him back at work.

As he tried to get up from the floor, he noticed that he was rather naked underneath his sheets. "Oh man, so not my day…" He continuously rubbed his eyes, hoping his eyesight was back at 100%.

Suddenly, a rather distinct yet almost inaudible snore was heard. He simply turned a few degrees to his left, where his couch resided next to him. "Oooh…" Although the mysterious person was under a few more covers, he couldn't help but believe he may have done some _naughty_ stuff while intoxicated in his work place.

"I should get dressed…" He noticed his clothes from yesterday were tidy on the couch's arm resting place, near the person's head. He got up, quietly this time, and went to fetch his clothes. He had the small cover hide his masculinity the same way a towel would do as well.

Just as he grabbed his clothes, the mysterious person turned, uncovering their face. "Angela?" Sweets raised an eyebrow.

"Hmmm…" She muffled about. "Just 5 more minutes please…"

Sweet's face was rather expressionless. Out of all the women out there, it had to be Angela to be sleeping on his couch. "Oh no…" He facepalmed, hoping the day didn't get worse.

"… who's there?" Angela said, still with her eyes closed, as she turned to her left side.

"I suggest that you shouldn't open your eyes." Sweets told her.

"Sweets?" She paused. Just as she was about to open her eyes, the psychologist quickly covered them back with his hands. "What the hell!?"

"I said don't open your eyes!" Holding his clothes with his right hand, he used his left hand to cover her eyes.

"Ugh fine," she didn't at least try to budge off his hand off her eyes. "Can you at least tell me where we are? And why am I naked?" Even underneath all of the covers she had, she felt that her clothes weren't.

"You want the truth?" Technically speaking, that's the only option he has.

"Yes."

"Okay then," he began to explain their scenario. "We're in my office. I'm naked, you're naked and I think we did more than just drink."

Angela's mouth was opened, and Sweet's tried discerning whether she was in shock or she tried saying something but nothing came out. "Can you please rewind that?" She finally spoke after a few seconds of silence loomed over her.

"Which part?" He asked her.

"All of it."

Several minutes passed, Angela now sat down on the couch, still naked but the bedsheets she had provided the clothing she needed to cover her private parts. "So neither of us can remember what the heck happened last night?" That question lingered around in the room.

"Nope." Sweets said, almost completely done in putting his clothes back on. He fixed his tie while conversing with the artist.

"Did we at least…" Angela started to make faint gestures with her fingers, hoping the young Psychologist got what she meant.

"Did we at least… what?" He couldn't figure out what in the world she was doing with her fingers.

"For God sakes man, condoms!" She exclaimed at him. "Did we at least use protection!?"

"Oh," Now that he thought about it a bit more, his and her concerns were somewhat refocused on that specific thing. "Check the trash can, it's right there." He pointed at the small trash bin that was next to the couch.

Angela reached for it and quickly skimmed through it. "I see nothing but a bunch of chocolate wrappers…"

"Maybe we used one of them?" He weakly laughed, although, he quickly ceased it once Angela gave him a rather menacing glare.

"Now's not the time to make jokes, Sweets!" She threw the small trash bin back in its spot.

"S-Sorry, just trying to be somewhat optimistic…" He told her.

"Yeah, and unrealistic at the same time," She heavily sighed as she pressed her back more into the couch. "Oh god, this is definitely going to come back in the ass and bite us…"

"Relax, what is the possibility of you-"

"VERY HIGH!" She cut him off mid-sentence.

"Ok you have a point." He longer argued about it with her. He gave her a faint smile. He looked at the time on his phone. "Oh crap, it's almost 9 am."

"Damn, I'm late for work!" Angela quickly got her clothes, which were on the floor scrambled about. "Turn around."

"What? Why?" Sweets asked. "I've already seen you naked."

"While we were intoxicated," she added the context of how he saw her naked body. "Besides, can't a woman have her privacy?"

"Y-Yeah," he put his jacket on and walked towards the door. "I'll just wait outside."

"Thank you," she heard the door close behind her. "Don't know what's worse, this bad hangover or his damn stubbornness…"

As he waited for her to be dressed from outside his office, a familiar agent came by. "Hey Sweets," he greeted the Psychologist. "Why are you out of your office?"

"Oh hey, Agent Booth," he noticed that Agent Booth had a file under his right armpit while holding his cup of coffee. Sweets can smell the aroma of Vanilla coming from the coffee. "Didn't know you were going to pass by?"

"Uh huh, who's in your office?" Booth's questions now seemed like an interrogation.

"Ugh, no one." He lied to the veteran.

"Then why are you standing out here like a penguin?" He continued to press on with the questions.

"I seem… to have misplaced my keys…" Sweets had hoped his lie was enough to not warrant the agent to go in the room.

"You know what? Just forget it," Booth grabbed the files with his left hand, giving them to the Psychologist. "I need you to shrink these files for me."

"You do know that I actually don't shrink files?" He spoke realistically.

"Just do what you usually do with them, alright?" Booth said, sipping from his cup of coffee after he finished his sentence.

"Got it." Sweets affirmed him, holding the files with both of his hands.

"Great, see you later then." He walked away, leaving to probably go see a murder scene.

"Phew," he heavily sighed of relief. "Hey Angela, you almost done in there?"

"Yeah, you can come back in," she unlocked the door, letting the psychologist back into his office. "Who was that out there?"

"Oh, it was Booth," he clarified. He saw that she was going to get her purse, perhaps going to work already? "He just wanted me to check up on these files."

"He didn't suspect anything… did he?" From her tone, she rather she kept this a secret from everyone than tell it.

"At first but then he stopped," he told her. "About what we were talking about earlier…" He quickly changed the topic.

"You know, it's no biggie…" Her tone changed once more, this time, less pitched than it was earlier.

"Angela," Sweets then came close to her, putting his hand on her shoulder to comfort her a bit. "You and I know both know this is a rather big thing." Eye to eye, he told her. "How about you and me talk about this over lunch? Does that sound good?"

Out of everything that has happened so far, what he just said somewhat made Angela's tension a bit more relieved than what it was. "You know? I would actually like that." She grabbed her bag and made her way to the door.

"Ok then, 'til we know what exactly is up, I think we should refrain from telling anyone about this." He suggested to her.

"Yeah," Angela agreed with that. "See you later Sweets."

"Yeah, you too." They said their goodbyes.

Angela opened the door, leaving his office, and closing the door right behind her.

"Ow." The sound of the door closing made both of their heads hurt. It still reminded them of them bad hangover they got.

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 **Author's Note: Hope you like the story so far. I also want to note that I am caught up with the show and I know very well that *SPOILERS* Sweets died. He was my favorite character. I also like his interactions with Angela and why I ship them in the first place. Anyways, I really hope you like the story so far. See you next time I update.**


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